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  #1  
Old May 19th, 2019, 07:59 PM
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Ghosts of Saltmarsh

SaltmarshSaltmarsh was founded 130 years ago by four adventurers who had cleared the area of a particularly brutal tribe of lizardfolk. Before they came, the area had consisted of just a few buildings, but the adventurers decided it was a fine place to retire and used their wealth to found the town of Saltmarsh.

Today, Saltmarsh is on the verge of becoming a legitimate city. Many travelers have decided to settle here because the town is located in a prime position—not too far from civilization, but far enough that external politics and tax collectors rarely bother to make the journey. It is a town filled with possibility and ripe for exploration. Midway between Waterdeep and Neverwinter, Saltmarsh and its hardy inhabitants endure both winter storms and the Mere of Dead men to the south.

Like most towns its size, Saltmarsh doesn’t have an underground network of sewage tunnels. Rather, the streets are lined with gutters that, in theory, should funnel the city’s waste down to the ocean or the Kingfisher River. Each day, laborers employed by the dungsweepers’ guild gather and replace large barrels of garbage and other waste that have been placed on convenient street corners.

Saltmarsh is run by a town council of six elected individuals. The council meets in the town hall at the start of every season, at which time they vote on issues and new laws and hear public grievances. In order for a motion or issue to be ratified, at least five votes must be cast in favor.


What to Expect From MeThis will be the third campaign that I will be Dming on RPGx. My first, Lost Mines of Phandelver is going strong as is my Curse of Strahd and will be hopefully for years to come. This is due to my players dedication and efforts. For this campaign I am looking for players who are DEDICATED. This will be a jaunty sea-based story and I will do my best to immerse you in the experience.


ExpectationsMy expectations from you are fairly simple.
* Well written posts using grammatically correct English. Proofread your work please.
* 3ish posts a week (I will do my best to properly pace the story)
* Proper formatting (Please see example below)
* Do not disappear without the decency of giving the rest of us notice. That would be rude and I will be sad. If RL happens let me know and I will do my best to keep you involved.
* DO NOT ROLL IN THE ADVERTISEMENT THREAD

Game InformationDeadline: TBD
Party Size: 5-6
Posting Rate: 3/week
Sources: Anything but UA, no flying.
Starting Level: TBD
Ability Scores: Rstat2: one roll, if unhappy then 27 point buy
Equipment: TBD

ApplicationName: The name of your character.
Race: Uncommon races are uncommon for a reason. Please have an interesting backstory.
Alignment: No evil characters allowed... morally skewed is fine... but no evil.
Class: Fighter, Rogue, Warlock...etc
Background: Either a published background or a custom one. (If custom please provide a link)
Personality Traits: Two traits, chosen among those published or your own.
Ideal: Either a published ideal or your own creation.
Bond: Either a published bond or your own creation.
Flaw: Either a published flaw or your own creation.
Appearance: Describe the appearance of your character. If your character came into a room...what would everyone see or notice? Pictures are not necessary but appreciated.
History: Describe your character's back-story.
Role-Playing Sample: I have played with you so please just link me to your best recent post


 
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Old May 19th, 2019, 09:57 PM
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Halgar Othensson, Lore Master of the Sword Coast

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Name: Halgar Othensson
Race: Half-Elf(Wood Elf ancestry)
Alignment: NG
Class: Bard
Background: Shipwright
Personality Traits: A pipe, an ale, and the smell of the sea: paradise
Ideal: Muddied waters always clear in time
Bond: I repair broken things to redeem what's broken in myself
Flaw: Past horrors come to visit at the most inopportune times.
Appearance: Halgar looks very much like a man that belongs much further north then the Saltmarsh, with his braided blond hair and very pale skin. While he was known to have more of a coppery tone during his youth and his brief time with the Navy, his time being away from the sea has caused it to mostly fade, showing very few psychical features from his mothers side. Being both shorter then most human men and thinner, he is usually plainly dressed and would blend into most backgrounds if he wasn't as well known as he is in SaltMarsh. He keeps his hair long, partly as a preference, partly to cover the slight point of his ears.
History: TBD
Role-Playing Sample: Got three reps from this one so figured it'd work
Sheet here


Last edited by creed; May 21st, 2019 at 11:43 PM.
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Old May 20th, 2019, 12:46 PM
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Alternen Gale
Name: Alternen Gale
Race: Half-Elf (Sea)
Alignment: CG
Class: Paladin
Background: Marine
Hardship: Leave None Behind - you carried an injured marine for miles to avoid capture and death.
Personality Traits: Nothing can shake my optimistic attitude | I love a good insult, even one directed at me | I love being being out in nature; poor weather never sours my mood.
Ideal: When people follow orders blindly they embrace a kind of tyranny
Bond: I know nothing about my elf heritage and it feels like a missing piece of me.
Flaw: I have a very bad temper but a long fuse.
Appearance: A dashing young half-elf with golden hair and fair skin. His eyes are the blue-green of the sea. He is lithe and steps with a light bounce. He is often smiling and almost always jovial. The young half-elf normally wears well worn but well cared for leather and a light weight cloak - almost always ready to head out into the wilderness with little notice.

History: Born a bastard to the daughter of a noble house, Alternen was kept around at the behest of his mother and against the wishes of his grandfather. Only his mother knows who his father is - all that is known is that he is an elf of some sort.

Alternen has always been drawn to the water. He was always a strong swimmer and always felt comfortable in the water as well. Often when he wanders through the forests, he'll end up next to water. Be it a stream, a pond, the ocean or something in between. There is some bond to water that he does not understand. He's never really thought about it - its just something that has always happened and is a normal thing for him.

When he was young he asked his mother about his father's people. She would tell him nothing about his father, but did bring him down to the closest elf church, which happened to be dedicated to Deep Sashelas, the elven god of the sea. Learning anything about elves began to fill what had always been a bit of an empty space inside him and he became very active at the church. The elven clerics of the church recognized the sea elf in Alternen and trained him. On his 16th birthday, he was blessed by the god with divine powers.

Being granted powers by an elven god threw his half-breed lineage in his grandfather's face. He pulled a few strings and got Alternen into the marines. During his training he and another trainee became separated from the company. Alternen was follwing him in the patrol and he simply lost sight of the man in front of him. And when Alternen realized what had happened, the patrol was nowhere to be found and the two recruits were lost. They decided it was best to wait for daylight to try to find their way back and face the consequences of their blunder. As they were making their way back the way they thought they had come in the early morning, they were set upon by two goblins. How they had got there, no one could say, but the battle was pitched and Alternen's companion fell just as Alternen killed one of the goblins. He tapped into the divine powers that Deep Sashelas had granted him, raising his partner. The goblin ran into the brush - Alternen had assumed it ran away, but it lay in wait for them. As they pushed forward, hoping to get back to their unit and the healers, the goblin struck again and his companion fell once more. Alternen let out a roar of rage and charged into the brush where the arrow had come from, slaying the goblin. His divine powers were tapped, but he did what he could to stabilize his partner before setting off. He set off, carrying his companion as best he could for the rest of the day until he was finally found by the rest of the patrol of recruits. They had been set upon by a larger contingent of goblins.

 

Role-Playing Sample: I quite like this Perris Post


 

Last edited by ColdBones; May 23rd, 2019 at 07:21 PM.
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Old May 20th, 2019, 01:02 PM
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Name: Sjogrenard Bearson
Race: Human
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Class: Barbarian
Background: Marine
Personality Traits:
1. My language is as foul as a harpy's nest.

2. I laugh loudly and see the humor in stressful situations.

3. When the sea is within my sight, my mood is jovial and optimistic.
Ideal:
1. Bravery: To act when others quake in fear-this is the essence of a warrior.

2. Perserverance: No injury or obstacle can turn me from my goal.
Bond:
1. I must set an example of hope for those who have given up.

2.I will own my own ship and wharf. I will use my resources to help people whose lives have been destroyed by war.
Flaw:
-I become irrational when innocent people are hurt.

Appearance: Sjogrenard at first appears to be like any other Uthgardt barbarian. But take a look into his eyes and you see joy and compassion. He has deep blue eyes and a perpetual smile. He laughs with encouragement for others. He gestures with thoughtfulness. Sjgorenard does have a filthy mouth, but he thinks nothing of it except around children. The Bearson has reddish brown hair and a fair number of freckles, though he tans well. Sjogrenard wields a greatsword or spear and shield in battle depending on the circumstances.

History: Sjogrenard, was a Black Raven Uthgardt barbarian. He left his home as a youth of twelve before he learned to ride a giant raven. The good-hearted youth found his way to Lonelywood of the Ten Towns. There he found a friend in Sneed Hilltopple and his family of master tailors tasked with maintaining the sails of the fishermen in town.

After a time the large and big boned Sjogrenard traveled south to Bryn Shander to join up with a mercenary band. He learned the craft of war in this bands company, and much of the injustice and atrocities that many fighting men were so fond of. Eventually Sjogrenard moved south and found himself in the marines. His new job was a bit more tolerable. Discipline was improved, but still he found the military and mercanaries cared little for the common folk. After stopping a few rapes and abuse of the elderly and young, the Bearson realized he would tolerate this life no more.

Eventually, Sjogrenard caught wind of that the Saltmarsh had survived the undead scourge of Leilon. Now that the town was free, traffic from Neverwinter, Leilon, and the Saltmarsh would pick up. There was opportunity to help the casualties of war. The little folk. Sjogrenard had a mission. He would have his own ship, perhaps even a fleet. He would own a wharf and move good to help his charges.

During his days as a marine, the Bearson found a taste for helping folks with his blood and strong arms. In particular he loved the gritty pitched battle from ship to ship and in swamps and trenches. He learned to hate pirates and others who would hurt the innocent.

So now he found himself in the service of a merchant ship heading to Saltmarsh. He would collect enough money to start his mission. He would find friends to help. He would change the lives of many downtrodden folk. One battle at a time.

Role-Playing Sample: Raackma, Barnaby, and Nettle are my best right now. The post with Nettle making Dregan his necklace maybe one of my better posts recently.
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Last edited by Bluejack; May 23rd, 2019 at 11:01 AM.
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Old May 20th, 2019, 03:48 PM
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Tarquin Wellesley - Coming soon! Stilll WIP - stuff may change

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Name: Tarquin Wellesley (pronounced Welsley)
Race: Human (Variant)
Alignment: LN
Class: Warlock – Hexblade

Description: Tarquin stands five foot eleven, but he wears shoes with a heal that means he tops six foot in a crowd. His black hair is trimmed short at the sides and back, with a little more length in on to, which is waxed into a neat parting beneath his cap. The cap, like his jacket is a well-tailored tweed, which a connoisseur would recognise as the Wellesley family tweed. He is proud of his look and has perfected a posture that shows his physique at its best. He does not feel the need to fill the air with sound, but when he does it’s with a quiet assurance of someone who is sure he is right.

Background:

How he presents himself
Tarquin is a high placed agent of the wealthy Wellesley merchant family – a centuries established company plying trade-routes all over Toril. He carries himself as one the Wellesley family charged with protecting and fostering their interests in the Sword Coast. He is visiting Saltmarsh in order to understand the territory, its people and build relationships that may lead to long-term trade.

Wellesley Shipping
The Wellesley family are well known in any port town. Their original fortune came from their hundred-year patent over the Ruathym Island trading route secured them a monopoly of precious metals and gem supply from dwarves that dominated the island. This brought enough wealth to found the family’s fleet. They then they parlayed the wealth and relationships to create the trading empire that was now over two hundred years old.

Through the years the Wellesley family has kept the wealth and control firmly within a close family circle. Each generation the sons and nephews of the patriarch vie to bring power and wealth to grow the family’s fortune. On his fifty fifth birthday the Patriach, by tradition, choses a successor a steps back to the shadowy Wellesley council, that sits in the family estate on Ruathym Island.

 


 





Last edited by Jon; May 25th, 2019 at 08:43 AM.
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Old May 20th, 2019, 04:28 PM
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Name: Merrick Openwater
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Race: Water Genasi

Class: Grave Domain Cleric

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Background: Sailor

Personality: My friends know they can rely on me, no matter what. I stretch the truth for the sake of a good story.

Ideal: The thing that keeps a ship together is mutual respect between captain and crew.

Bond: I’m loyal to my deity. They have given me the power to escape my solitude.

Flaw: Once someone questions my courage, I never back down no matter how dangerous the situation.

Appearance: WIP

History:
 


RP Sample: One of my favorite rp posts.
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Last edited by Dragonsabin; May 28th, 2019 at 01:39 PM.
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Old May 20th, 2019, 05:29 PM
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Bullo Dugbrace
Name: Bullo Dugbrace
Race: Lightfoot Hafling
Alignment: CN/G
Class: Rogue
Background: Sailor/Smuggler
Personality Traits: Sailing - New ports bring new bars which brings new ales which brings new friends. Work - When there's work to be done, I work hard, but I also play hard when the work is complete.
Ideal: Freedom - The freedom to go anywhere and do anything I please is provided by the sea. (Chaotic)
Bond: Captain - My loyalty lies with my captain before anyone else.
Flaw: Drinking - I have trouble stopping once I start drinking. It tastes too good.
Appearance: Bullo has dark hair and a fresh face. In fact you would think he was an innocent young man to be fully trusted. However this would not be true. He is a smuggler by trade and is usually seen dressed in a 'borrowed' officers coat from the merchant navy. Bullo keeps his hair long and when at work on the ship his hair is tied back in a neat pony tail. However, when on shore leave Bullo lets his hair down both literally and metaphorically.
History: Bullo has grown up by the sea all his life. The Dugbrace family live just five miles north of Waterdeep and from a small cove have a profitable and legitimate trading business. Bullo's father sent him to sea at the age of nine and there he has spent his whole life. His father had hoped the young lad would work his way up to be a ship's captain but alas Bullo was not made of the same moral fibre as his father. The young hafling was enticed to join the crew of the Jolly Liberator a known smuggling ship that operated out of the cover and secret harbours around Waterdeep. Bullo worked hard and became and expert foretop man on the schooner and also developed some skills that would have his father white as a sheet but were quite useful in fulfilling the Liberator side of the crew that he belonged to. As a seasoned hand Bullo never had any difficulty finding work but money and him never spent much time together due to weakness for a good beer. Bullo therefore has not made much of his life though he has enjoyed every minute of it. After many years of working all sort of boats and for all sorts of Captains Bullo has spent the last five years working on the Jolly Liberator that operates out of Saltmarsh. He has made good friends in town and is certainly regarded as one of the traditionalists. A passionate supporter of free trade but avowed to stop the needless slaughter caused by the Pirates.

Background: Sailor

Role-Playing Sample: Here is one


 
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Last edited by Eourl Thorson; May 22nd, 2019 at 02:44 PM.
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Old May 22nd, 2019, 07:55 AM
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Name: Name shamelessly stolen for the world's greatest science fiction series.Anathema di Cardelah

Gender: Female

Age: 110

Alignment: Neutral

Race: Sun Elf

Class: Wizard (Bladesinging)

Background: Far Traveler (customized)

Faith: Fenmarel Mestarine

Lifestyle: Comfortable (2 GP)

Personality Traits: I have my own ideas about what is and is not food, and I find the eating habits of those around me fascinating, confusing, or revolting. Sarcasm and insults are my weapons of choice.

Ideal: Inquisitive. Everything is new, but I have a thirst to learn. (Neutral)

Bond: I hold no greater cause than my service to my people.

Flaw: I am secretly (or not so secretly) convinced of the superiority of my own culture over that of this foreign land.

Appearance: Anathema was a rational sun elven woman in her early adulthood. With 5'6", she was slightly taller than the average high elf. She wears her soft black hair at about shoulder-length. While black hair was quite common among the sun elves, the green-bluish color of her eyes, however, would have hinted at a moon elf. The elven features of her face and build were less marked compared with the other members of her race. Anathema could have easily passed as a half-elf and even as a human among people that were not well-versed in the finer points of the elven physique.

Anathema seemed to compensate her not so exemplary appearance by exceedingly parading the typical sun elven characteristics, the good and the bad. She lived up to the Ar'Tel'Quessir's reputation for being arrogant and self-important. She believed that they were Corellon's chosen people and that other races — even other elves — were subordinate to them in skill, significance, and sophistication.

Although she was a skilled practitioner of the Art, Anathema didn't appear as a wizard. With her rapier at her hip, her longbow in her hands and her hawk on her shoulder, she looked more like an elven ranger in slightly revealing and very expensive but nevertheless practical and resilient clothing.

Backstory: The di Cardelahs were one of the most influential sun elven houses to the Royal Council of Evermeet. Partly, this influence was based on the many exceptional wizards the house had produced so far, and party, one the highly regarded wisdom of its members.

As the tradition would have it, only the eldest offspring would become the next head of the family. Much to Anathema's chagrin, she wasn't the eldest one. Therefore, whenever she wanted to have her ideas implemented, she had to beg her parents and her siblings for them. As Anathema firmly believed that the greatness of her ideas was not up for discussion while her family rebuffed her on several occasions, continuing political differences developed between the young wizard and the other members of her house.

At some point, Anathema made a far-reaching decision. If she wasn't allowed to support the elven race with her wisdom here in Evermeet, she would have to go abroad. One day, when she would be mighty enough, she would come back and no one would be able to ignore her anymore.

The last ties to her family were torn apart when her father didn't allow her to use the family's great teleportation circle to be transported to Faerûn, the land of the humans and adventurers. Instead, Anathema had to travel to the east by sea, a long and arduous journey. When she reached the waters of the Sword Coast, she had almost spent all her coins, a fact not unrelated to her expensive lifestyle on board.

As a consequence, and much to her regret, she had to accept a job to work among humans. She was hired by Captain Karlsson of the Shannon, a 500-ton galleon. Anathema was proficient with navigator's tools so she helped the captain to chart the ship's course and to follow the navigation charts. She wondered whether he later wanted to employ her as a war wizard in the impending war everyone seemed to talk about.

Most of the time, Anathema could be seen standing on the deck of the Shannon, her gaze fixed to the west where she knew Evermeet, her home. She never spoke any superfluous word to any of the crew and mostly remained silent as she let her hairs fly in the wind.
Stat BlockAnathema di Cardelah N Female sun elven wizard 1
Armor Class 18* Hit Points 10/10 Speed 30 ft
Str 9 Dex 20 Con 18 Int 18 Wis 14 Cha 8
Saving throws Int +6, Wis +4
Skills Acrobatics +7, Arcana +6, Investigation +6, Perception +4, Stealth +7
Senses darkvision 60 ft. passive Perception 14 Languages Common, Draconic, Elvish
Spellcasting Cantrips (DC 14, +6) mage hand, minor illusion, prestidigitation, toll the dead 1st level (1/2 slots) fog cloud, grease, mage armor*, shield, sleep
Rapier +5 (1d8+5 piercing)
Arcane Recovery
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DMing: Age of Worms (v.3.5) Out of the Abyss (5e) Taken the Oath of Sangus.

Last edited by Disaster Master; May 24th, 2019 at 03:21 PM.
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Old Mar 15th, 2020, 02:54 PM
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Basic InfoName: Shavol Beishen
Race: Human
Alignment: Neutral
Class: Cleric (Grave Domain)
Background: Acolyte
Personality Trait 1: I would rather act than think. I believe in my instinct over rational thought.
Personality Trait 2: I am always utterly serene, even in the face of disaster.
Ideal: Live and Let Live. Meddling in the affairs of others only causes trouble.
Bond: My bond is my quest. I must recover what I lost and seek redemption for the mistakes I have made.
Flaw: My quest comes above all, I will put it above my friends if I am ever forced to choose.
Role-Playing Sample: The Nightmare Begins




Time. What is time my friend? Is it an acknowledgement that the world continues to move beyond us? Is it an obsession? A belief that every single second that passes brings us closer to our inevitable demise. Can you, my friend, see the hourglass as I do? Do you see the thin flecks of sand, each and every grain as they tumble ever downwards? This, more than most, brings me inexorably forward to my death. More than most, each and every second is precious to me, and I would hold onto them as I would hold onto the most beautiful thing in the world. This is my fate. What, pray tell, is yours?

AppearanceFor Shavol Beishen, beauty is indeed skin deep. On the surface, the girl is truly beautiful, with eyes the colour of deepest emerald glimmering with twin pinpricks of enigmatic light — a dancing light to bedazzle those who would look upon her in their intertwining webs. Her alabaster skin, pale and flawless, resembles a porcelain doll. If Shavol looks like someone who has been touched by the grave, this description is perfectly accurate. She carries the mark and aura of the grave with her, and it is an aura that transcends any other from her. The icy hand of death hangs over her like a dark shroud, and her skin is cold to the touch. Yet, her appearance belies the power of divinity that she holds inside of herself and can wield on command.

Shavol speaks in a voice that is lightly lilted, almost musical in tone. She is softly spoken, talking in almost quiet whispers that one would strain to hear unless they moved in very close to her to hear her. Occasionally, particularly when she is distracted she has the strange tendency to speak in an ancient, almost olde-worlde dialect. What Shavol does not realise is that this is an affectation of the early life that is lost to her ~ it is an unconscious memory that will come to the surface when she least expects it to do so.

Shavol is an amnesiac. She does not remember her life prior to her return from the Fugue Plane, save for the crime she has committed and the crime that she is now damned for. Her life before is as lost to her as the ethereal void itself, although she sometimes suffers vivid nightmares of the time before it is as fleet and shadowy as ghosts dancing in the darkness. Every time she reaches out to clutch the strange fleeting memories, they dissipate into nothingness whenever she begins to get close to them.

Yet she knows what her goal is. She also knows the price for not achieving that goal.


HistoryThe particulars of Shavol's early life are forever lost to her. What she knows is limited to what she knows she must do to redeem herself in the eyes of Kelemvor and his faith. Once, in that early life, she was without faith, and in particular she was irreverent and disrespectful to those who did follow the gods. In Shavol's eyes belief, true belief, was the belief in one's self and one's own abilities. This would have been fine in itself, across Faerun most gods would have been happy with mortalkind following their own belief's and making their own choices. However, in Shavol's case, she took one step too far, and she brought the attention and wrath of one particular god's clergy down upon her with her own arrogance and disrespect.

The exact events that led up to her folly, and what exactly happened is lost to her, yet what Shavol does know is that at some point in her past, she breached Kelemvor's temple inside the city of Neverwinter and stole one of the god's precious artifacts at the behest of another in exchange for wealth and riches. Handing off the artifact to her client, Shavol thought no more of it.....at least until she was seized by angry Kelemvorian priests months later. It turned out that the Kelemvorian artifact had been handed to a Tanar'ri demon lord by her client and it had been profaned at the hands of that lord for no other reason than to humiliate the Lord of the Dead and his priests. Naturally the priesthood was not particularly enthralled by this turn of events and Shavol was ultimately geased to find and return the artifact that she had given up.

She failed. Although the exact circumstances of her failure are lost to her now, Shavol failed to retrieve the artifact and ultimately perished while under the influence of the geas. Her soul, as all souls ultimately end up, was sent to the Fugue Plane where she would await judgement. Due to her crime and her lack of faith, Shavol was due to be mortared into the Wall of the Faithless on the Fugue Plane for an eternity.....until she was offered a reprieve. A celestial in the service of Kelemvor intervened and Shavol was to be given one last chance to redeem herself for her crimes in the eyes of Kelemvor. She would be restored to life, albeit temporarily, and tasked with finding the trail to the artifact that she bargained away, and return it to the Kelemvorian priesthood. By doing this, she would be allowed to avoid the fate awaiting one of the Faithless, and ascend to Kelemvor's side within the City of the Dead. Shavol was sent to the island of Gundarlun, which was the last place the artifact was seen before the trail grew cold.

Shavol has exactly one year to find the lost artifact. If she does not achieve this within that time then her life will be taken from her and she will spend eternity mortared into the Wall of the Faithless with every other damned soul from Faerun. It is a fate that she desperately wishes to avoid.

Last edited by Nade; Mar 16th, 2020 at 02:31 PM.
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Old Apr 21st, 2020, 03:52 PM
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Old Apr 21st, 2020, 04:43 PM
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Name: Reszo Onfroy (The Wolf who gives Peace)
Race: Variant Human
Class: Monk
Alignment: Lawful Good
Background: Sailor (Bad Reputation)
Personality Trait 1:To me, a tavern brawl is a nice way to get to know a new city.
Personality Trait 2: I work hard so that I can play hard when the work is done.
Ideal: Fairness: We all do the work, so we all share in the rewards. (Lawful)
Bond: In a harbor town, I have a paramour whose eyes nearly stole me from the sea.
Flaw: Once someone questions my courage, I never back down no matter how dangerous the situation.

Backstory:
Those southern kingdoms and their petty little gods. They know nothing about survival or the way of a true warrior, The Way of Tempus. In the North the world his hard and unforgiving. The island is surrounded by cold and ice and if the weather doesn't try to kill you the wild will. It is a place where nature forgives no one their weakness and to survive is to be strong. Tempus flourishes in such a place where things such as War and Battle kull out the weak and leave only the strong. The Way of Tempus is the way of battle, the way of bringing strength to the Northmen and eliminating those who would negatively impact their survival.

This is the world that Reszo grew up in. A childhood among warriors where he watched as the Hunters brought home their quarries to provide for the rest of the village and the warriors protected it from everything from Giants and dragons to foreign invaders. The children both boy and girl were raised to admire the weak and were constantly put against each other in physical competition from races and feats of strength to sparring matches. Reszo quickly rose above the others growing larger in stature event than most northmen. He quickly became a target for the others, but he enjoyed the attention, he loved being the biggest and strongest among them and that none could truly challenge him among his peers. His family was proud, but Reszo was vain and soon he let it get to him.

One day he had ventured out into the cold forboding lands that surrounded their village against the rules of the King and the clan. Reszo was beginning to feel that such rules did not apply to him for he was so great he could conquer anything that crossed his path. In his young rebellion he was joined by two friends Gorm and Troels. Gorm had been second best in their sparring matches and had conquered all who crossed him but Reszo. They had become good friends along with Troels, who was quite the opposite of the two warriors. Troels was a kind hearted boy with an affinity to the old ways but who lacked the physical fortitude of his peers. Reszo had arranged their adventure to show his friend how strong he truly was and how even the weak could do their part. In doing so he spat in the teachings of Tempus but he was young naive and did not care of such things.

The boys were gone for ten days without word. When they made it back both Reszo and Gorm were severely wounded and their friend Troels was not seen. Both of the young boys seemed to be in shock and never spoke of what happened on that journey. Shortly after Gorm and Reszo became distant between one another and their friendship never rekindled. Where Gorm became more bold and pushed the boundaries of the Ways of Tempus more than any other Reszo became a devout follower of the way. He insisted on culling any weakness to strengthen the clan and followed the code he had been taught with devout persistence. They began to call him the Wolf Who Gives Peace, of course in the Way of Tempus bringing someone peace meant to send them to their rest.


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Last edited by Avner; Apr 21st, 2020 at 11:45 PM.
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Old Apr 24th, 2020, 11:39 AM
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